


Not All Fights Go Well

by VeinsOfOpal



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4770497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeinsOfOpal/pseuds/VeinsOfOpal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>From a prompt I received awhile back on tumblr, just remembered to post it here. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Not All Fights Go Well

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt I received awhile back on tumblr, just remembered to post it here. Enjoy!

They move fluidly as his staff whirls and her blade strikes forward at their stunned opponents. Solas creates an opening for Lavellan, and she dashes in and strikes down the foe. The graceful way she moves almost distracts Solas from the battle, but he keeps his focus as they fight together; a perfect team. Watching the Inquisitor fight with such ferocity, he did not envy any that stood at the end of her wicked blade. 

As they face down the Greater Mistral of the Emerald Graves, she charges forward alongside Cole, determination set in her beautiful features, gripping her blade and shield tightly. This is where she creates the openings for Solas to strike. Most of their battles go smoothly, with minor injuries, but it is foolish to assume anything when facing a high dragon. The frigid dragon his crippled, lashing with her tail and maw, fighting with all she has, even with her end so close. 

It is foolish to assume anything is finished when facing a high dragon.

Solas nearly feels his heart stop as he watches the Mistral’s massive head dart towards her, jaws crashing around her body, and throwing her far. Lavellan’s petite form smashes into the stone pillar, collapsing mercilessly with the hard ground, body still. The smell of blood is stronger now, and it drives him forward. Solas is fierce and desperate now, heart pounding as his face contorts into rage accompanied with poorly masked fear. As Cole and Varric move clear, he unleashes a hurricane of fire upon the Greater Mistral, flames greedily enveloping her thrashing form until she moves no longer.

Solas drops his staff as his feet pound the ground, running over to Lavellan’s still form, the light mountain earth stained red with her spreading lifeblood. “Ma vhenan, _stay with me,”_ he pleads with desperation as he kneels at her side, pulling her bloodied form close as his hand glides over her injuries, healing tendrils of blue reaching deep to lacerations and broken bones. Her eyes keep contact with his, dainty, blood spattered hand weakly grasping at the fabric of his armour.   
Her injuries are grave, and Solas is terrified.

Not all fights go well.


End file.
